


shostakovich won’t fix your problems.

by cowboysapnap



Series: alone at the edge of a universe (humming a tune) [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Its called short and sour for a reason, No Sex, Piano, Why is the second tag after piano. piano sex. gross, Yes i know that this is short, Yikes, feelings of worthlessness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:40:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27591496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowboysapnap/pseuds/cowboysapnap
Summary: Tommy didn't say a lot of things
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Series: alone at the edge of a universe (humming a tune) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2016029
Comments: 17
Kudos: 251





	shostakovich won’t fix your problems.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lillian_nator](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lillian_nator/gifts), [qar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/qar/gifts).



Tommy didn’t usually tell people that he was a pianist. It brought to many questions, to many requests, too many demands to verify the claim. Tommy didn’t usually tell people he was considered a prodigy, didn’t tell people he had been offered to play with symphonies, didn’t tell people he had trophies for it.

Tommy didn’t tell people what his habits for practice. Didn’t tell people he would sit with his back ramrod straight for four hours, sitting on an uncomfortable bench, playing the same measures over and over and over till they were perfect. He knew what they’d say. _“That’s unhealthy!” “Don’t you have other things to do?” “What about your friends?” “You have to study as well, just stop playing!” “Tommy you’re so pale! Do you never leave the house?”_

Tommy didn’t tell people how hard it was to even get a ride from his parents to lessons. Didn’t tell people that they hadn’t come to a recital since he was eight. Didn’t tell people that when it was late at night on a Wednesday he had to take the bus home from the symphony because neither of his parents cared enough to get up. Didn’t tell people that his parents never wanted kids, that he was a mistake. Didn’t tell people that his parents left him in the care of his grandparents for most of his childhood. Didn’t tell people that his parents _didn’t care._

Tommy didn’t tell people he had carpal tunnel. Didn’t tell people that his hands ached for hours. That some days opening a fist was excruciating, that his entire career could come crashing down, and he kind of wished it did. At the same time, Tommy didn’t tell people that his only sense of worth came from this. Came from the applause, came from the “You should be more like _him._ ” He didn’t tell people that in every other category, Tommy was worthless.

And Tommy knew it. Tommy knew that this was the only thing he would succeed at. That this was the only thing he had a talent for. And he hated it, _he hated it._ He wanted to be good at sports, wanted to understand math, wanted to be funny, wanted to be a leader, wanted to be good at anything that wasn’t _fucking piano-_

But he wasn’t.

And that hurt. It hurt so badly. Tommy didn’t have any friends. Tommy didn’t have any talents. Tommy didn’t have loving parents who were supportive of all of his endeavors. Tommy didn’t have anything other than that piano bench and the imaginary conversations he had with composers long dead.

Tommy didn’t tell people a lot of things-

And it was usually because he had nobody to tell them to.

**Author's Note:**

> I like to hurt people, I know :)
> 
> please don't comment about how short it is.


End file.
